


The darkness is the light.

by ladymdc



Series: Murder Husbands™️ [5]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25775548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymdc/pseuds/ladymdc
Summary: You go to war for the people you care about, not put them through hell.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Series: Murder Husbands™️ [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857106
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68





	The darkness is the light.

**Author's Note:**

> Song inspo/title: [Beautiful Crime](https://open.spotify.com/track/4NZKQIAbpUPd0jn0CzvRpS?si=9AXY3U0kTEicCy7CqerIbw%22) (Tamer).
> 
> Since I mentioned attempts on Jack's life several times in TCWM & hint at it again in _Sending my love on a wire_ (parts 1 & 2 of [this series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857106)). I wanted to (self-indulgently) explore what that would look like once they were established, so here we are. 
> 
> You can probably read this without having read either of those works, but you won't know who Patrick is & some details will be lost on you.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. 

For all of his experience and muscle memory, and the fact he was a quintessential professional threat, the first shot resonated in a way Jack could not describe. It was in the air around him, in his bones, and in the back of his head. Something that he felt in his very core.

It knocked the wind out of him.

Though at first, Jack did not realize that this was due to being knocked sideways. By the time it clicked that he was on the ground, safely tucked away behind some shipping crates, a hail of gunfire had already erupted in the hallway. 

_ Rhys. _

Jack’s stomach contracted into a tight, acid-laden ball. He scrambled to his feet, hand automatically going to the revolver strapped onto his thigh. He only hesitated because the  _ asshole _ who had shoved him down, i.e., Patrick ‘Asshat’ Fernsby, fell against the cover of the crates. Bullets tore at his shielding and thwacked into the metal. He looked at Jack meaningfully, just for a split-second.

“Lorelei is with him,” Patrick said, then redirected his attention to where it needed to be. 

The information rang through Jack’s ears. 

They knew. They knew and did not tell him. 

His finger was on the trigger now, just barely enough to feel it there. To feel it and to be reassured that he could  _ do something, _ yet light enough to not reactively take a shot without first analyzing the situation. Without first making sure he had a clean one and would not accidentally harm—  _ the one person—  _ Jack didn’t want to harm. 

It was hard to see anything beyond the tunnel vision of panic threatening to dominate his mind. Jack had known it was only a matter of time before they switched targets and went after Rhys instead of him. Finally, hitting Jack where it would do actual damage. But knowing it and experiencing it were two  _ very _ different things. 

The comfort of finding four of five hostiles already down was lost on Jack at the moment. Rhys’ shield rippled and distorted the air around him under the too-heavy assault of his own tracker tech being used against him. 

But the final asshole’s shield shattered first in a loud, fizzling crack.

The ice-cold triumph in Rhys’ expression at that was staggering. He continued to advance without pause even though the range between them was already too close for Rhys to miss. Not that he would. Not with his ECHOeye lit up like solar flare, ensuring he would hit his mark  _ precisely _ where he intended. 

The dipshit did not have any time to react. The bullet drove into his head. It passed through easily as the hybrid blend of corrosive and shock damage liquified his brain tissue, then exploded out of the back of his skull in a reddish-pink cloud. 

Rounds two and three hit in perfect succession. One on top of the other. The assassin’s head was mostly blown apart by the time his body dropped. It hit the ground almost as quickly as the cartridge cases ejected by the weapon that had killed him.

And just like that, it was over.

Jack had already holstered his revolver and roughly shouldered his way past Patrick by the time Lorelei gave the all-clear. Rhys did not respond. He did not even look up from the wrecked head until Jack began to step through the mess it had made. 

Rhys looked like he did not know he was capable of doing that. 

Jack knew. In the past, he had doubted what Rhys was capable of, but he had learned the hard way to never question it again. It would probably take some time. Maybe a day or two. But Rhys would absorb it just fine because he had mercilessly taken a life to redeem another. The one Rhys knew mattered most to Jack— his own. 

His gaze flitted between Jack’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” Rhys said tightly. 

Jack shook his head sharply and tried to make his face even, to soften his features in order not to be glaring at Rhys with such severity. But despite the outcome, he was utterly fucking displeased. There existed exactly two very mutually exclusive things that Jack would have preferred. First, to have at least one of these dickbags alive so he could personally extract from their brains every shred of information they possessed. Slowly and painfully, and preferably, with his own two fucking hands. And the other, to have single-handedly filled the asses of every last piece of shit lying dead on the floor of  _ his  _ goddamn space station with hollow points.

Jack gripped Rhys by both arms. “I am not mad at you.” 

Once Rhys acknowledged this with a stiff nod, Jack glanced down. Automatically taking inventory of him even though Jack was acutely aware that Rhys’ shield had managed to maintain its integrity. So, physically he was perfectly fine. Mentally, however… well, it was as Jack expected. His hand was shaking a little now that it was over, something typical for those unaccustomed to killing or who simply lacked the training. It was just the body’s natural way of releasing stress-energy when the mind could not let it go on its own accord.

Jack firmly pulled the pistol from Rhys’ grasp. He briefly tensed, hand clamping around the metal like a lifeline, but after a beat, Rhys let it go. Jack deftly reloaded the weapon, engaged the safety, and tucked it back into his shoulder holster.

“But I’m not happy with you either,” he added. 

The corner of Rhys’ mouth quirked as he looked away. “That’s alright,” he said. “A few days or weeks of the silent treatment is more than worth still having you around.”

Jack ignored the pang in his chest and raised a hand to coax Rhys into looking at him. Instead, Rhys leaned into his palm and closed his eyes. Jack’s thumb smeared red into Rhys’ cheek from the fine droplets of blood flecked across his skin. Then he tangled his hand in Rhys’ hair and pulled him close. Arms wrapped around him and Rhys buried his face in Jack’s hair.

“You did good, kitten,” he murmured.

Rhys didn’t respond, save for a deep, even inhalation that expanded within his hold.

“We need to get you two planetside,” Patrick interjected decisively.

Jack tensed with irritation and was on the verge of snarling when Rhys pulled away, his shoulders set and hands moving to adjust his tie. It was the way Rhys carried himself when he was mentally preparing; when Jack could tell Rhys was detaching from what he felt so that he could stay on task. 

“There’s a lot for us to coordinate last minute if we’re going to pull this off successfully.” Lorelei slung her assault rifle onto her back. The magnetic holster activated with a faint click; her expression was grim and resigned.

“I’ll do what I can from the command center,” Rhys said.

Jack bit back the infuriating sense of frustration rising within him. He did not want Rhys anywhere near this clusterfuck. Especially since he was completely uninformed.

“Either way, they’re right,” Jack clipped in an attempt at being neutral and placed his hand on the small of Rhys’ back. 

Selene was only about seventy-five percent complete, and while security was technically up and running, it was nowhere near as airtight as Jack required—  _ obviously.  _ However, that could not be helped. Not with large chunks of the space station still under construction. Fuck, some areas were still using force fields to keep the atmosphere stable as operating systems and equipment was delivered and installed. These assholes could have floated right in, and his fucking people had probably  _ let them.  _

A few Hyperion-Atlas soldiers were down, but as the four of them began to move down the hallway, a small contingent broke off from the scene to escort them to the shuttle. It was not a long walk. They had been headed planetside after a progress meeting with the lead contractor when Rhys and Lorelei had conveniently gotten distracted by an espresso machine. Fucking caffeine addicts. Then shit went sideways— literally, for Jack.

On the shuttle, everything tumbling through him felt too confined, too large— too  _ unaddressed.  _ Several times his leg started to bounce, and he had to still it with incredible effort. Jack was hyperaware that how he was handling everything was making Rhys restless himself, and also that he was trying to hide that. He was clearly waiting for Jack to lash out. 

His hand went unthinkingly to Rhys’ thigh, offering him some point of connection or reassurance perhaps. At his touch, the bracedness in Rhys’ shoulders eased some. 

“Where’s Zer0?” Jack’s mouth twisted derisively as he asked the question. 

Lorelei shook her head. “I don’t know, but it always works out better that way.”

Jack froze for a split second. Then he blinked and smiled bitterly to himself. “Right,” he said. “It always works out better that way, doesn’t it?”

Across from him, Patrick’s jaw flexed as he looked away, and Lorelei’s expression tensed. 

“Usually works out better,” Rhys corrected, closing his hand around Jack’s where it had reflexively tightened on his leg. 

Jack tried to force his body to relax, and it worked; marginally. “Was this his idea?”

“It was mine,” Rhys said, then sighed as he met Jack’s gaze levelly. “They weren’t after me, they were after you like they always are, and I’m tired of it, Jack.”

“Last time we got reliable intel and involved you regarding how to approach it, nothing happened,” Patrick defended. “This was the only way.”

Rhys gave a smooth shrug. “No, it wasn’t. But I wanted to put a stop to it if I could instead of having a repeat occurrence of that and needing to wait another four damn months for a follow-up opportunity.”

There was something about the situation that Jack could not put his finger on. It was a nagging, itching worry at the back of his mind like a sixth sense. He studied Rhys seriously, trying to divine what it was, but Rhys’ eyes wouldn’t stay. His gaze swept on, conveniently toward where the shuttle door slid open a half-second later. 

Jack gripped Rhys’ hand as he waited for the others to disembark. Entwining their fingers and tracing his fingertip along the ridges of Rhys’ knuckles. He stopped at the black titanium ring Rhys wore on his pointer finger, a match to the one Jack wore as well, but on his right index instead. 

“Let’s go upstairs first. You’re covered in blood,” Jack said. It was everywhere, Rhys’ face, torso, hands— and that was bothering him a lot more than it should. “You could use a shower.”

Rhys blinked. Then looked down at his blood-spattered shirt. “Good call,” he muttered. 

Neither Patrick nor Lorelei tried to stop them when they branched off the opposite direction without a word. It had been apparent they did not want Rhys further involved in this any more than Jack did. 

Upstairs, Jack turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature to Rhys’ preference while he undressed. The bathroom itself was huge. It seemed to be Rhys’ one and only over the top indulgence when he had taken over the place. The bathtub was large enough for both of them to fit comfortably inside, and the walk-in shower took up another quarter of the room. 

By the time Rhys finished, the room was already beginning to steam. Jack took his mechanical arm in his hands, smoothing them up the metal before reaching for the disengagement latches. It would need to be cleaned. Jack would take it down to Raesler himself later. 

While Jack undressed, he watched Rhys step into the cascade of water and turn his face up into the spray. Allowing it to wash away the traces of physical evidence from day’s events like he always did when shit like this happened. Rhys sensed Jack’s presence as soon as he stepped in with him. Jack thought he might have even detected a smile on his lips before Rhys looked at him. 

Jack began to work the shampoo into Rhys’ hair. His eyes fluttered shut again as Jack massaged his scalp, and his hand reached for Jack’s hip, drawing him in close enough to just  _ feel him. _ He pressed a kiss against his throat as he worked, and Rhys let out a low sound of satisfaction. 

For a bit, they leisurely shared the water, letting it wash the soap from their bodies in rivulets that circled down the drain. Every now and then, they would share a soft, lingering kiss, but eventually, they could no longer keep their hands off each other. Rhys kissed Jack with aching slowness and took him in hand, beginning to stroke Jack from root to tip. 

Jack moaned against Rhys’ mouth, soaking up his affection like it might be snatched away at any moment. He brought a hand up to curl in Rhys’ hair, and the other slipped down to squeeze him, fingers brushing against the weight of his balls before languidly stroking him in return. 

He broke the kiss and shifted down, nuzzling at the slick juncture of Rhys’ neck, the water dripping off the end of his nose. Then he bit down with just enough pressure to evoke a soft, desperate sound from low in Rhys’ throat. 

His cock was sliding through Jack’s tightened fist easily, his excitement slicking the way. Rhys trembled in his arms, little tremors working their way up and down his body as Jack touched him, but throughout his attention never wavered in return. 

It seemed as though Rhys was memorizing every vein and ridge on Jack’s cock, even the thick, tender seam underneath. The taste of his tongue and the scent of his skin. Then Rhys gently brushed his thumb against his slit, and Jack moaned loudly through his teeth.

He pulled Rhys into him until his forehead rested against his. “Never again, Rhys. We’re fucking in this together.”

Rhys groaned, loud and desperate, and Jack felt him stiffen all over. His hips jerked, thrusting into Jack’s grip. He forced himself to take a deep breath as the pressure welled in the base of his spine. 

“I’m not going to lose you,” Jack told him, then his lips found Rhys’ just as he came, swallowing the resulting cries as his body stuttered out its own orgasm. 

Then Rhys dropped his head on Jack’s shoulder, swallowed, and sighed heavily. “I really am sorry, Jack, but I’m not going to lose you either.” 

Jack hummed in agreement and wrapped his arms around him. He drew circles into Rhys’ shoulder blade with his thumb. 

“We’ll talk about this later, alright?”

He could almost hear Rhys smirk. “Alright.”

“You tired?”

Rhys lifted his head. “Yeah, I am.” 

Jack nodded and stole a kiss. It went on for a while, slow and lazily, until he bit Rhys’ lower lip. Rhys smiled, truly smiled, then he shut off the water, and they toweled off. 

When they climbed into bed, Jack pulled Rhys firmly into him, and the press of skin had never felt so good to Jack as it did then. Icicle toes included. Once the lights were out, it did not take long for Rhys’ breathing to turn even, signifying he had fallen asleep. 

His fingers traced the razor-thin scar on Rhys’ throat before brushing his damp hair back off his forehead. Rhys sighed contentedly. Jack was still too keyed up to follow after him, and once he was positive he would not wake Rhys, he carefully untangled his limbs from Rhys’. 

Jack pulled on boxers and a t-shirt and half-assed fixed his hair before activating the holo-screen in the main room. The ECHO barely got out a full ping before Lorelei appeared. 

There was a hesitation as she took in the room behind him. “He asleep?” she asked. 

“Yeah, he is.” 

There was a long silence. 

“Whoever is behind this, they’re after him, Jack. Not you and he knows it,” Lorelei said slowly. “That’s why the hits keep coming at you, and you know as well as I do that’s why he did what he did today.” 

Arms folded over his chest, Jack nodded absently. 

Rhys repelled the darkness. He stopped the pain. 

He was  _ everything _ and still so much more. 

“Do you remember what you said to me the first time you guys came to Eos?” Jack asked her. 

By way of answer, Lorelei’s mouth curled up into a cruel smile. 

_ You go to war for the people you care about, not put them through hell. _

“Zer0 found their handler,” she said. “Once we get our hands on him, we’ll save him for you.”

Jack winked, then the screen went dark. 

**Author's Note:**

> as always, thanks for reading ♥️


End file.
